Texting At The Table
by SaraBarns
Summary: PruCan Oneshot: At a dinner party -surprisingly- hosted by Alfred, Gilbert gets bored. ...well what else is new? Everyone knows that when Gilbert gets bored, things get... awesome. Now can Mattie manage to sneak away from his overprotective brother to engage in some... awesome activities with his boyfriend?


**A/N:** Um... so here's a PruCan oneshot... uh... yeah. I'm not really sure what prompted me to actually write this all out... Oh, and there is implied USUK, but you could probably see any pairing you wanted in here, if you looked hard enough, so it doesn't much matter either way.

* * *

My phone vibrated, and I jumped, pressing one hand to my mouth and the other to my pocket. I glanced around to make certain nobody was looking my way before sliding my phone out of my pocket. 'Yeah right,' I thought to myself as I entered my passcode. 'As if anyone would be looking my way.'

G: This is boring. Let's go make out in the coat closet ;)

I looked up, my face flooding with heat as I locked eyes with the Prussian ex-personification. Ruby irises danced happily in the ivory-pale face they'd been set in, and a smirk slid onto his lips. I frowned at him, and carefully brushed my trademark curled strand of blond hair out of my face, my lavender eyes probably sparking with the humiliation that was just waiting to sink in. The albino just winked, and jutted his chin downward, indicating I should reply to him.

M: Absolutely not! Gilbert, you promised you'd behave!

I looked back up as soon as the message sent, and tucked the phone between my legs. The khaki pants I wore hid the light-colored case of my phone, but I dropped the blue cloth napkin on my lap on top of the device as well. Better safe than sorry.

"So Arthur," I said, tapping England's shoulder as I did, just to make sure he noticed I was addressing him. "Was this Alfred's idea, or yours?"

"Oh- Matthew? When the hell did you get here? Good God, lad, don't startle me like that," he slurred, draping an arm over my left shoulder. I could smell the wine on his breath, and leant back a few inches in my seat. "Mine or his- bloody hell, surely you don' think Alfred F. Jones could have arranged something like this? Of bleeding course it was my idea!"

"Ahh, okay," I said neutrally, gently removing his hand from my sleeve -he was staining it; do I even want to know what that yellow substance is?- and turning back away from the clearly intoxicated Briton. His idea or not, I guessed it would be Alfred's party for real from here on out.

Between my legs, the phone vibrated again, and I quickly pressed a hand on top of the napkin to silence it. Not that anyone would be able to hear it from here. Normally Arthur would, but tonight he was drunk, and South Italy was on my other side, and he was too busy complaining he'd been put next to his brother to notice anything I was doing.

Well... And there was the fact that this was America's house, and he was blasting some popular song or other at a decibel much higher than necessary. I guess Arthur planned this party to celebrate the end of the latest series of World Meetings, this time in America. I think Alfred let him get away with it because they're sort of together now. I'm probably the only one who realized it beside Francis... -I do sort of take after him, in a few ways- but I do believe Alfred got laid by Arthur (In that order) about two days ago. I have to give him credit, he disguised the limp pretty well, but having been brought up by France, I think I know how to identify who's taken it up the ass.

G: C'mon birdie it'll be fuuun~

I looked up from Gilbert's text, and shot him another glare, to which his grin grew even larger. Typing quickly, I tucked the phone back between my legs before taking a small forkful of the pasta with tomato sauce that was the current entrée and slipping it into my mouth.

M: No! Gilbert, you can't honestly think nobody would notice that!

He responded almost instantly, and I had to work to keep the fork in my hand. I lowered it slowly to the plate, and wiped my mouth with my napkin while taking the opportunity to glance down at the lit screen of my phone.

G: No they so wouldn't! The awesome me is an awesome ninja!

M: Yeah, kinda like when you told me your brother and Italy were too "lost in each other's eyes to notice we'd left," and they walked in on us after they realized we were gone?

I smirked behind the napkin as I slid my phone back between my legs, and glanced up to see Gilbert's reaction. I took another mouthful of pasta and stared him down as he dropped his gaze to his lap.

He looked back up after a moment, a childish pout seemingly glued to his normally smirking lips. He mouthed something at me from across the table, but I couldn't understand him so I just shook my head.

G: Low, birdie, so low.

I decided it could be interesting to have a little fun with this, so after reading the message, I just placed my phone back beneath the napkin, and took a sip of wine. It was French, I think, maybe a '67 or '68?

My phone vibrated again, probably after Gilbert realized I wasn't going to respond to him. I let it keep buzzing, until Alfred's butlers came around and took our dinner plates up and the low hum of small talk filled the surprisingly peaceful gathering of nations.

G: Oh come on, that was just the once!

G: And the one at Austria's house doesn't count!

G: Pleeeeeease!

G: The awesome me promises it'd be worth your whiiiillee~

Oh, to Maple with it, this was too much fun to deny. I was very much open to the idea of slipping off into my brother's house with Gil, but I wasn't about to tell him that. I had an appearance (and a reputation) to keep up, thank you very much.

M: Gilbert, it's not going to happen!

G: Why the hell not?

I paused for a moment, thinking about it. A tiny, devious smile found its way onto my lips, and I quickly typed out two messages.

M: Because you're drunk.

M: On air.

I think it took him about a second to respond, which, for the length of the message I read, was rather impressive.

G: The awesome me is not intoxicated! Please birdie, this American shit doesn't even come close to real German beer.

There was another half-second's pause between texts before the Prussian added,

G: I am NOT intoxicated! Just bored out of my fucking mind. So come onnnnnn. I've been good latelyyyy~

Well... He had been good lately, I suppose. He only snuck into one World Meeting this week. Buuuuut I do rather feel like playing with this some more. It's not often Prussia gets horny in a really social situation where he knows he can't just jump me.

M: Nope, you enjoy that boredom. Go have a wet daydream or something.

The message sent, I decided to just leave my phone on my lap this time, since England was so drunk it probably didn't matter much either way at this point. But the image of Prussia, asleep, face flushed and erection straining, imprinted itself behind my eyelids. My face heated up just a bit, but I managed to keep it fairly level for the moment.

G: HEY! I am not so unawesome that I can't control my (awesome, and you know it kesesese...) sex drive!

M: That would not be my first choice of words. And your libido is almost as bad as Francis'.

I had to hide my phone between my legs again as Alfred stormed past my chair to stop a disgruntled Romano from attacking a cackling Spain, and by the time he had returned to his seat, Gilbert's next message had already arrived.

G: Oh you know you love it.

My face positively lit up, and I shot a heated lavender glare to my boyfriend as I sent my response.

M: GIL!

G: I love when you're all flustered kesesese~

M: You suck maple.

G: Maybe I will ;) where'll it be on you tonight?

G: And hey, you can be quite the wildcat in bed yourself ;D

"Matthieu, mon cher," France said from behind me, making me jump and fumble to catch my phone for at least three whole seconds. "If you're going to text dear Prusse at the table, at least make it a little less obvious."

"O-Oui Papa," I muttered, my face turning even redder at having gotten caught texting at the table- and by France, no less!

"Non non non, mon fils," Francis tutted, sweeping his blonde hair over his shoulder before speaking again in a much, much lower voice. I-Into my ear. "Just take it into the bathroom, oui?"

I stared after my father figure as he sauntered off, chuckling his trademark "Ohonhonhon," and sipping at his wine. My mouth was probably hanging open, but it didn't even register. I mean, not that I hadn't had these sort of comments from France before, but he had also demanded to interrogate Gilbert when he learned we were officially going out. There had been no such remarks since.

G: Kesesese, did we get caught by Francey-pants?

M: ...I think we just got his blessing.

M: Uh, but anyway. Gil, I'm trying to be polite! Stop texting me!

G: Well you're not being polite to the awesome me by refusing to text me! Besides, nobody else is being polite!

I looked more closely at my surroundings, and noticed that people were indeed becoming restless by now. Desert had been served, but it was just ice cream, and nobody was really that interested. Alfred was trying to enthuse about it with Belgium, but I could tell she didn't care very much. And then of course there was the typical chaos around the rest of the room, since everyone else had apparently decided the meal was over, and now they could all socialize.

G: Still not going to give in? Well hopefully I can entice you into being a little more awesome, and a little less... polite.

C: Gil!

G: I'll even break out the collars and ropes and shit we both know turn you on but you won't admit it!

I brushed my curl out of my face again, flustered, only brought out of the texting when China broke a plate over Russia's head. ...Russia didn't do anything about it either. Creepy.

Well... Anyway. I started typing up a long message on exactly what I was going to do when I got home, but I think it took twice as long because Gilbert kept texting me in the middle.

G: We both know you're getting horny by now. Come on. It's impossible to ignore this sexy piece of ass.

G: What are you doing, writing a novel over there?

G: Birdie stop typing this is booooooring!

G: Hey I think France is going after England again, should I tell your brother?

M: I'm locking the ropes/chains/collars/leashes/whips (/whatever other kinky shit I've yet to let you use) in my closet and you're sleeping on the couch while I sleep on the bed in my room with the doors locked and the windows barred. And I'll call rape if you so much as touch me. ...Yes, tell Alfred.

I took the several minutes it took Gilbert to inform Alfred France was molesting England to compose myself... but the image of Gilbert having a wet dream invaded my mind again. Which was quickly replaced by an image of Gilbert getting off in the bathroom. Ngh, Maple. Is it me or is it getting hot in here?

G: And if I break into your room anyway? ;) Do I get punished?

M: Yes. You get left here after I tell England, my brother and Francis that you've been abusing me. We'll see how an ex-nation can fare against one current and two former world superpowers.

G: You're not unawesome enough to do that, Birdie. And I'll solve that problem by "borrowing" an aphrodisiac from Iggy. Which I will put in your maple syrup ;)

M: No, I'll tell him not to let you in his house, and Gilbert Weilschmidt, if you ever drug me you can count on a splintered hockey stick down your throat faster than I can say Maple.

G: Alright, alright. And I can so get into his house. And I would never drug my pretty Birdie. Not unless he gets the balls to tell me he wants it. (and I think he does~)

D-Despite what you would think would demand an automatic negative response... for some reason, the idea of Gilbert drugging my maple syrup really turned me on.

I mean, it would be Gilbert, so I would be in safe, loving hands the whole time. And, well... There was something so alluring about being forced to be aroused because of a drug, and wanting to make passionate love to Gilbert because of it. A sort of planned chaos I suppose.

I-I'm not some dirty pervert or anything though! I swear! I just... t-think that might be really h-hot is all...

M: Gil, what did I tell you about having Gilbird listen in on me when I'm alone?

I looked up, just for a moment, to see the reaction my daring text had gotten. I was rewarded with a set of raised eyebrows, and even a bit of a blush.

G: Oh no, Birdie, THAT was a lucky guess. You really are a little minx, aren't you?

...Maple, these pants were getting tight. It might be in my best interests to, ah, speed up this conversation.

G: Getting a bit bolder now are we? Does this mean tonight will be... interesting?

M: ...it might...

M: So about that aphrodisiac...

M: And the ropes...

G: Ooooooh you little kink. You're making it VERY hard not to drag your sexy ass home right now.

I bit my lip, glancing around just to be certain nobody was watching me... Fat chance, but I hadn't made it as long as I had in this world by not being cautious. Only right now... Caution took second shelf. Just below the bulge straining at my khakis.

M: Who says we've got to go all the way home...?

G: Not me! There's your awesome and sexy side, Birdie! Now. Are we talking table or closet?

M: ...I was thinking the bathroom. Alfred's supposedly got great locks, thanks to Tony. So he claims. And he'd join forces with France and England to murder you for defiling me publicly.

G: ...but when I defile you in private it's okay...? Dude your family is so confusing.

M: I know. But still. America would rip your balls off. That wouldn't be pleasant.

G: As long as he leaves my awesome five meters intact, that could be worth it~

M: Definitely not. I know how you love your ball-play.

G: Ngh, true.

While I looked up, and locked eyes with Gilbert for a brief moment, he mouthed something, and I frowned and shrugged, uncomprehending. It took him a few seconds to type a message, and while I was waiting I realized I had been palming myself through my pants, and flushed a deep shade of pink.

G: To the bathroom now?

M: Yes please...

Trying to keep a calm exterior, I watched Gil get up from his place across from me, and ask America where the bathroom was. Alfred looked around to see if I was still seated (he's attentive when he wants to be!) before directing the Prussian to the downstairs bathroom. He turned back to look at me suspiciously, and I gave him an innocent smile. Alfred just frowned.

I got up with my plate, intending to walk it into the kitchen before cutting around the back to the bathroom, but Al seemed to have other plans. He wove through a few bickering nations and one very irate China, before standing in my path to the kitchen.

"Watcha doin' there, Mattie?" he asked casually, crossing his arms and switching to a stance that could be considered both offensive and defensive at once.

"I was just going to bring my plate in," I said quickly, lifting it as though I thought he hadn't seen it earlier. "I just wanted to be a polite guest. There's no problem, is there?"

"Ahaha, no of course not!" Alfred laughed, seeming to completely forget about the albino man in his bathroom as I mentioned politeness. "Here, let the hero do that for you!" he snatched the plate out of my hands, and started for the kitchen.

...wow, I wonder what England promised him for behaving at this party of his. Because if anyone knew Alfred it was me, and this was really unusual. I wasn't one to poke my nose where it didn't belong, but I made a mental note to ask England just what he'd promised my brother later, because Gilbert almost always misbehaves. If it's not too kinky, I might use it one day.

...well, anyway. The instant he was out of sight, I bolted beneath the table, and crawled for the entrance to the hallway. Alfred could be back any second, and while he was distractible, he was all too willing to take any excuse he could get to "protect" me from Gilbert. Hence our seating positions across the table from each other.

I had to squeeze between the legs of a startled Hungary and a frowning Austria, before I dared scramble to my feet. But to my dismay, I found the collar of my shirt latched onto by one of the pair, and I was tugged backwards between them.

"Why, hello Canada dear," Hungary said cheerfully, releasing my collar once I was situated between the two European nations. "It's been a while, hasn't it? How is dear Prussia doing?"

I turned around, an spotted Alfred making his way out of the kitchen, and searching the crowd for me. His eyes passed over me once, but I knew from experience it was only a matter of seconds before he found me, since he was looking for me now. "Hungary, I really can't-" I began, wringing my hands together as I ducked in front of Austria to try to hide from Alfred.

"Why, really Canada, what on Earth are you-" Austria started to exclaim, exasperated.

"Why are you hiding from America, dear?" Hungary asked, standing on tiptoe to get a better look at Alfred, who was now peeling France away from England to try to see between them.

It was really starting to get hard to think about anything but Gilbert in that bathroom... Oh God, speaking of getting hard... I was absolutely desperate. "It's Gil, he's in the bathroom, I- oh Maple!" I yelped, as Alfred spotted me, and with some sort of demented battle cry, started shoving through nations to get to me again.

"Ah, going to meet up with dear Prussia in the bathroom?" Hungary asked excitedly, already pressing a handkerchief to her nose, now dribbling blood. "Go, Canada, go! I'll distract your darling brother!"

Nodding, not listening to Austria's complaints as I scurried from the dining room, I pressed a hand to my pants. Ngh, Maple I had to get to that bathroom.

"Why America," I heard Hungary coo. "How is England, darling? Oh, and I heard about that new iPhone of yours... Can you explain that to me?"

...that couldn't possibly...

"Ah- what? Oh! My iPhone? Yeah! It's awesome, isn't it? Ahaha, what would ya like to know?"

Brilliant.

That woman was absolutely brilliant. I would have to thank her later. But for now... Maple, maple maple maple I needed Gil!

I ran straight to the bathroom I knew Alfred had directed my boyfriend to, and rapped sharply on the door thrice. It only took a second for the door to open a crack, and Gilbert's red eye stared out at me.

"Birdie!" he sighed, relieved, as he stepped aside to let me in. "I was beginning to worry Alfred had roped you into doing the dishes or something else unawesome to keep you away from me!"

"He almost did," I said, pulling Gil flush against my body, and wrapping my arms around his neck as his hands came to rest on my hips. "But Hungary grabbed me on the way out, and when I told her where I was going, she distracted Alfred by talking about smart phones."

"Damn, we owe her," Gil growled as he held my hips tightly, and began grinding against me earnestly. The blissful friction was exactly what I needed, and I ground back with equal fervor, melting into a kiss he initiated after a moment.

Our tongues collided and battled for dominance for a few seconds, before I won and Gilbert gave up, allowing me to take the lead. Despite what the others thought because of my normal volume, I could be quite a dominant presence when I was with Gilbert. We did end up sharing the positions about equally, though. I liked it that way, and so did Gil. We were both a little big to be considered natural bottoms.

After a minute or so, we both had to pull away a few inches, completely out of breath. I leant my head on his shoulder, and at seeing the pale expanse of neck before me, smiled deviously. I darted forward, biting once sharply, before smoothing my tongue over the nearly-white skin, and sucking lightly to take away the pain. Gil gasped at the initial bite, and then groaned as I worked on it some more. 'Let's see him try to cover that one up; call it revenge for all the hickies Gil has left on me in the past.' I thought, smiling triumphantly.

But quicker than I could process in my current state, Gilbert dropped to his knees before me, and smiled lustfully up at me. He shoved me back against the door and I gasped. My pants were undone in one fluid movement, and pulled down to my ankles in another, the boxers taken with them. I had only an instant's warning before he took the tip of my erection into his mouth, dragging his tongue back and forth at a tauntingly slow pace.

"Oh, Gil," I moaned quietly, stuffing a knuckle into my mouth as he took me deeper. My other hand automatically threaded through his pale silver hair, and locked there when he ran his tongue up the vein on the underside of my engorged cock.

The slick heat would almost have been too much for me to take if Gil and I weren't as... active as we were. Even as it was, the feeling was still absolutely delicious, and I couldn't help the somewhat feral-sounding groans that escaped from the corners of my mouth as he continued working.

But suddenly the door started shaking behind me, and I could make it out as the familiar sound of Alfred slamming the door with his fists. I paled, but then flushed again and threw back my head as Gilbert chose that particular moment to deep-throat me, and my warning for him to stop came out more like a keen of longing... which admittedly, it was.

"Mattie," Alfred shouted, still pounding at the door. "If you don't get out of that bathroom right this instant, I swear I'm coming in!"

...I didn't doubt him or anything, but I was a little too far gone at that point to really care, I think. I was just at the edge, the heat pooling in my stomach reaching its max. Gilbert just looked to be too engrossed in watching me to care either.

And so it only took a few more seconds for me to come, releasing my seed into Gilbert's mouth, my mind going up in pleasurable white flames at the same exact moment Alfred decided to go through with his threat, and indeed unlock the door.

It opened backwards, and I tumbled out, Gilbert not far behind, landing with his torso covering my groin, but his mouth still full of cum.

I instantly flushed bright red, as I looked up at Alfred's first startled and then furious face, and saw Francis and Arthur behind him. The Brit just looked like he was about to collapse from laughter -God, was he drunk- while France shot me a wink and an approving look. But then my eyes travelled to Gilbert's face, above my chest, and I watched him swallow my essence slowly, keeping eye contact with me the whole time.

"Ugh!" Alfred exclaimed, seizing Gilbert by the scruff of the neck and turning away from me with him. "Put yourself away, Mattie!" he complained, clearly made extremely uncomfortable by the whole situation.

I hastily pulled my pants and boxers back up, and zipped up my pants before standing, and looking down, embarrassed beyond comprehension. ...And not even down from my orgasm's lasting high yet.

"S-Sorry," I stammered, talking only to Alfred now, since France seemed to be having a silent exchange with the Prussian in Alfred's grip.

"Yeah, you're sorry!" Alfred exclaimed, turning to face me, and shifting Gilbert into being trapped under his arm, but so that the albino was facing Francis instead of me, while England just wobbled back into the dining room. "That's... God, Mattie, I thought you had more class than that! I mean, I would expect it from him, but you? And in my bathroom?"

I didn't really know how to respond to that, so I just shrugged and looked down again.

"Ohonhonhon, I can send Gilbert back to his hotel in a cab if you like, Ameríque," Francis offered, and the wad of bills that exchanged hands behind Alfred's back did not escape my notice, but it did his. I also knew Gilbert wasn't staying in a hotel, he was staying at my place, which was only about a twenty minute ride from this house. Alfred didn't.

"Really?" he asked, turning and eyeing the Frenchman suspiciously. He also inadvertently turned Gilbert so that he was facing me, and the Prussian winked, red eyes glinting deviously. "Well alright... Thanks, Francis!" Alfred said, before shoving Gilbert into the blonde's waiting arms.

Al and I watched Francis lead Gilbert out, chastising him in French, and as soon as the front door had closed behind the pair, my brother turned to me, staring at me disapprovingly.

"Mattie..." he started lowly, giving me his best impression of England's angry face.

"Al, I..." I began, already desperately searching for an excuse to leave his hose early. I knew that look on Gilbert's face- he was still aroused, and expecting me home not long after him.

"No, we need to have a talk," Alfred said, now appearing to be pouting more than anything else.

"Al, I-I'm not feeling so well," I lied smoothly, staggering forward a step for effect. I gripped his shoulder as though I was losing my balance, as I continued. "I think I might have had too much wine... Can I ask Francis to drive me home?"

"Huh?" Alfred said, instantly startled out of his bad mood with me. "Of course! Are you sure you aren't just coming down with something? Maybe AIDS from that damn Nazi? Can I help?"

"Don't call him that," I frowned, before adding "He got tested before we started going out anyway, Al, and..."

I saw Francis reentering the hall out of the corner of my eye, and raised my voice just a bit to make sure he heard me.

"N-No, I just want to go home... I'm really not feeling at all well," I said, eyeing Francis pointedly.

His eyes lit up, and a devilish smirk formed on Francis' lips. "Oh, mom fils!" he cried rushing to my side and slipping me out from the support of Alfred's arms and pulling me into a hug. "You look ill, mon cher! So pale! Oh, non non non, this won't do! I must get you home at once!"

"O-Oui papa," I murmured, burying my face in Francis' coat, trying to appear as innocent as possible.

Francis tutted at Alfred, even while spinning around once and taking me towards the door. "Shame on you, Ameríque! Berating your brother when he is clearly in such distress! Ah! I thought Angleterre would have taught you better!" looking back down at me as he supported my arms and 'helped' me through the door. "There there, mon ange, Papa Francis will get you home in no time."

No sooner than the door had shut behind us, Francis spun us both in a circle, and we somehow both ended properly upright and on our feet. He chuckled his signature laugh, and pushed me down Alfred's front steps, towards my waiting car, already running, and with a certain grinning albino in the passenger seat.

"Oh! Francis, I-" I started, a smile spreading quickly across my features. "Shh! Don't thank me, cher, it was all Gilbert's idea. Now go make marvelous love with your Prussian, non?"

"O-Oui," I blushed, but nodded vigorously, racing across the stone path to the driver's seat.

"Birdie!" Gilbert exclaimed happily as I slid into my seat, and he locked his arms around my neck, appearing not to want to let go.

"Ah, I-I missed you too, Gil," I stuttered, as he started dry-humping my leg.

"Kesesese, yeah... I missed ya Birdie, but I was sort of hoping for a little awesome car sex before we left?" he said nervously, only ceasing his hip rocking when I forced him back into his own seat. "I'm kinda sorta unawesomely horny as fuck!"

"You ass!" I laughed, buckling his seat belt for him, since he seemed either unable or unwilling to do it himself. "No car sex. I like this car, and Alfred is waiting for Francis to drive me home. Besides, if he catches you having sex with me on his property, you will lose your five meters."

"Rrgh, fine," he growled, palming himself through his trousers. "But you just ensured you will not be walking -or leaving our bed- for the next week. Screw world meetings, 'cause I'll be screwing you!"

I blushed, but didn't say anything, just pushed a little harder on the gas pedal and linked hands with Gilbert between our seats.

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**A/N:** xD I can't believe I actually published this after all. Eh, you enjoyed it, right? That's what counts! ^^;; And believe it or not, this is based on a real text conversation at a Girl Scout dinner between me and my best friend, which REALLY spontaneously shifted into... this. It was so hilarious, everyone was looking at us all red-faced and giggling like WTF are you doing.

Also: There's now a sequel to this! I got so many reviews asking for one, I was like, to hell with it, I'll do it! So: **Water Works** is the OneShot sequel to Texting at the Table; check it out if you liked this one!


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